Elizabeth Banks
Cocainorao

The important thing in life is not to take oneself too seriously, and so, after a review of the latest work by Kaurimaski, I find it appropriate to lower the bar a bit. Every now and then I like to watch silly movies to switch off my brain, have a hearty laugh without undercurrents, philosophizing, or particularly tangled plots.

Good versus bad, a bit of chaos and blood, some jokes, the good wins. Stop, end credits.

A black and white poster with a bear immersed in clouds of white powder with sharp teeth on display. Roaaaarr!!! Assuming they can actually go roooar, of course. Prominently displayed is the phrase "inspired by true events." Yes, sure!

The true story is that in 1985 a bear in the Georgia (U.S.A.) woods consumes 3/4 kg of cocaine that fell from the sky: a story of narco-trafficking that truly interests us little. Immediately renamed "Pablo Escobear," what do you expect it to do? The poor beast dies.

Now you wouldn’t want to lecture the director who just added a bit to the plot, would you? I certainly wouldn't.

Anyway, it's Christmas, the afternoon turning into evening. I have a walrus on my stomach (lunch), moving with its damn tusks, and I'm in the company of my friend T-Rex. Lovingly named so because he doesn't part with a single euro. The bastard, despite having such short arms, still manages to gulp down my beer and smoke my cigarettes with outrageous gestures.

The story is decidedly centered in its fully absurd and trashy nature. The least common denominator is the utter stupidity of the characters who rightly get devoured at a rapid pace by our cocaine-addicted bear in a constant state of withdrawal. It snorts a line off the stump of one of the first unlucky ones and resurrects at the end thanks to one last shot that fortuitously falls from the sky. The special effects are obviously terrible, but in my opinion, they should have been even more mediocre, like Sharknado for instance! I would have slightly reduced the already minimal tension present. With these adjustments, I could have classified Elisabeth Banks' work as a 100% slapstick comedy. Instead, it's a light horror/black comedy, and it's a shame. Because if you want to do trash, it needs to be trash to the core.

The last film with the late Ray Liotta I fear won't make it into cinematic history. That said, it has a good pace, it doesn't last too long, and the laughs it gave me partially helped me digest the Christmas lunch.